Breakdown
by bittersweet-endings-2214
Summary: But the most heart-wrenching part of the whole situation was the noise he made. A noise that held, pain, anger, and unbearable anguish. TWOSHOT. Slight BBxOC, onesided BBxL
1. Chapter 1

I watched the screen that pictured a young, raven haired man. His arms were bound at his sides, and he was sitting on the heavily padded floor. He was shaking, I noticed, and his eyes were wider than usual. Suddenly, he whipped his head around wildly, his hair flying about. Just as I noticed that he was hyperventilating, a sound startled me.

"U-uwaaaaaah..W-w-ah…!"

I finally realized that the mysterious noise was coming from the monitor in front of me. I squinted at the screen, trying to see the scene clearly.

"U-a-aaaa!" I heard again. Wait… was he… crying? A pang of something I had never felt before hit my heart like a bullet. Even though this man was only a year younger than me, and was anything but a child, just his actions made my instincts take over my body.

My maternal instincts.

I dashed through the door of my office, down the stairs, and down the corridor. I skidded to a rough halt as I approached his door. I could hear the thrashing and screeching through the metal entrance. I entered the cell slowly, and padded toward the hysterical man. His eyes were clamped shut, tears streaming down his pallid face. He was kicking his legs and jerking his torso this way and that. But the most heart-wrenching part of the whole situation was the noise he made. A noise that held, pain, anger, and unbearable anguish. It was so excruciatingly difficult to see anymore, I almost ran out of the room. But I couldn't do that. No, I was a doctor here, and it was my duty to keep the people at the mental ward safe. I walked slowly over to him, and knelt down next to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and a small gasp escaped the wailing man's lips. I pulled him into my now sitting lap, resting his head on my shoulder, and wrapping my arms around his bony body, pulling him into a gentle hug. He sat there and just screamed/wept into my shoulder for a while, until he, still just as hysterical as before, actually responded to the hug. He snuggled closer to me, attempting to wrap his arms around me, too, but failing because of the straight jacket he was wearing. I embraced the fragile man just a bit tighter, ruffling his hair slightly as I tried to calm him. "Shh…" I whispered soothingly, "It's okay… Let it out… It's okay…" I rambled on like that for a little while, before realizing that when he had first seen me walk in on his little breakdown, he blushed. Ohh… So he was the type to get embarrassed when someone saw them cry… "Shhh… Beyond… It's okay to cry… It's nothing to be ashamed of at all…" I whispered, rubbing his back as I spoke. Finally he gave in to the comfort. He scooted even closer to me torso, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, sobbing with no restraint. It seemed that this was the first time in years someone had actually held him, tried to comfort him when he cried. But then I remembered something. His parents died when he was very little. He was then taken to an orphanage and pushed past his limit with the demanding education. This really WAS the first sign of affection he had received for quite some time.

I knew what I had to do.

I softly grabbed his chin, and tilted his cold face upward, and stared deeply into his sorrowful eyes, and planted a small kiss on his pale cheek. I saw him stare at me in disbelief, salty tears still flowing from his eyes. I pulled him even closer to me, and kissed him very gently on the lips. At first his dark orbs went wider than ever, but they soon closed as he kissed me back. It was nothing more than just a kiss, we didn't even use our tongues, but I could feel Beyond begin to calm down from the hype he was in not two minutes ago. I broke the kiss, and held him tightly against me, letting him cry ruggedly into my neck. We both knew that there were not feelings behind the kiss, unstable or not, Beyond was a very smart person. But even so, I think it was exactly what Beyond needed. Just a little bit of affection. I patted his back, and asked him if there was anything that he wanted.

"Can we stay here, like this, for j-just a little bit longer?" he managed to reply raspily between sobs.

"Of course," I said. "Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

I kept my promise. I held the raven haired man there on the ground of his cell for the rest of the night, watching him as he drifted in and out of sleep. He would occasionally wake up panting, or screaming, and sometimes even wailing. But I stroked his hair, wiped some of the tears off of his cheek, and laid my head against his. He would calm somewhat down, nuzzle his pallid face into the crook of my neck, and fall asleep once again.

The next morning, his eyes fluttered gently open, and, for once, I thought I saw a spark of innocence in his eyes. It was gone, however, when he began to yowl mournfully, head tilted up, hot tears falling down his face. "Shhh…" I soothed, "It's all right… It's fine, really…"

I cooed to him as if he were a toddler who had lost his mother in a supermarket as I put one arm under his knees and one under his neck, and rocked him back and forth. I heard him whimper for a minute, and those were soon reduced to mere sniffles. I set him down, as he regained his composure, and brushed a strand of loose hair behind his ear. I kissed him on the forehead, and stood up, grabbing him and taking him to his feet along with me. "Thank you," he murmured, still attempting to gain his footing. Then I saw an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Ummm…" he said. I saw his knees rub together, and his lip being bitten. "I have to… Uhh…" I simply nodded, and I took his arm and led him to the bathroom.

When we reached the door to the bathroom, I undid the belts on the back of his straight jacket and opened the door for him. "No funny business!" I told him as I closed the door. About a minute later, he walked back out, and I twirled my finger around in the air, indicating that he should turn around. Beyond obediently spun so his back was facing me and I strapped the belts. While I was securing the belts, however, I noticed that there were scars on his neck. I looked down at the only other visible skin on his body (other than his face, of course); his feet. Even though I was curious, I decided that now was not the time.

I nudged him to go forward, and, as he usually did, he obeyed. It seemed like he wouldn't be that kind of person, to take orders so well, but then I remembered something more about him:

He had just been transferred back from the prison ward.

The harshest of all them.

In fact, he had just gotten back from that place roughly two hours before his breakdown…

Ohh…

'It all makes sense now!' I thought, wanting to hit myself on the forehead with a brick.

'That's why he was crying! That's why he follows commands without complaint now! THAT'S WHY THERE WERE SCARS ON HIS BODY! The people in the prison ward must have beaten him!'

"Beyond," I said shakily, "Did-did the patients in the prison ward… hurt you?"

I saw him bite his quivering lip. "Y-ye-es…" he managed to choke out, tears beginning to form in his still irritated eyes. To be totally frank, I felt like crying myself. But, I gathered my bearings, and rushed him to his room. Once inside, I sat him down on the floor and asked him to tell me everything that happened.

"We-well… They had shanks… And they… They cut my back… a-and my legs, and m-my sto-stomach…"

Though his eyes were glazed over, he was refusing to let the tears fall. Normally I would discourage this behavior, but I knew that by doing this what he was really doing was to keep his dignity, his pride, somewhat intact. He had cried in front of me once, and he would not again. He whimpered pathetically, trying his hardest to keep his tears in his eyes. Though the day before I had told him that crying was not to be ashamed of, it seemed that he still disliked crying in front of others.

Then it hit me.

He didn't just _dislike_ crying in front of people…

He was _afraid_ to.

The patients in the prison ward must have taunted him for crying… Or worse…

I patted his back lightly, and pulled him into a hug. 'Oh, Beyond…' I thought solemnly, 'Why did this have to happen to you?'

I was on the verge of tears. He was only in his early twenties, and his life had been more miserable than a child whose dog had just died. I wanted to nurture this young man, make him a better person. But the damage was done. He had been so far traumatized, the pain driven so far into his formerly innocent heart, that there was barely any hope of ever getting him back to a life that wouldn't be so plagued with anguish.

I was torn from my thoughts when I heard a soft voice.

"Miss… May I tell you a secret?" he questioned quietly, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

"O-of course. Anything," I replied, stumbling over my words.

"You have to promise not to tell a soul."

"I promise. What is it?"

Beyond paused, apparently hesitant to tell me. But eventually, he inhaled deeply, and blew the air out through his mouth. He looked up at me with a smile you would expect only to see on the face of a child with a terminal illness, saying their last goodbyes. He looked up at me, and said something I never would have suspected him to say to me.

"That was my first kiss," he breathed, the sickly smile still playing on his pallid lips.

My eyes went wide, and I blinked stupidly a few times before calming myself, and replying.

"Really?" I asked gently, the pity in my voice not evident. "Why is that?"

"Because whenever I tried to get close to someone, whenever I would hold out a rose, or give a candy to someone I liked… They would always, no matter what, they would always reject me. Every single time I tried to admit my love to somebody… He would always turn me down without a second thought…"

At first the only thing going through my mind was how sorry I felt for him, but then I remembered what he had said in the last sentence. Beyond used the word he, implying that the whole time he was telling me his romantic misfortune, he was talking not about people he loved, but a specific person he loved...

"Who was it?" I asked, hoping he wasn't too touchy on the subject.

His terminal smile looked even sadder than ever, and he looked more tired and rugged than I had ever seen him before.

"He is the only person I really, truly, ever held dear to me… The only person who I ever looked up to… The only person who I ever wanted to love me back… As much as I loved him…

"His name is L… and I hope he still remembers me…"

A small gasp escaped his slightly parted lips, eyes bulging from his head, as he tightened all of his muscles and fell to the ground. "I.. lo-love you.. L…" were the last words he would ever speak, as he closed his eyes, and his fragile, miserable body went limp, one single tear falling from his eye as his heart ceased to beat.


End file.
